'
The gift was a little book, a beautifully written copy of all the
verses composed by the good Marcus in honour of Benedict and of the
Sacred Mount of Casinum.
Holding it against his heart, Basil rode down into the mist.
CHAPTER XXVIII
AT HADRIAN'S VILLA
Rome waited. It was not long to the setting of the Pleiades, and
there could be no hope that the new army from the East would enter
Italy this year. Belisarius lay on the other side of Hadria; in
Italy the Imperial commanders scarce moved from the walls where each
had found safety. Already suffering dearth (for Totila now had ships
upon the Tyrrhene Sea, hindering the corn vessels that made for
Portus), such of her citizens as had hope elsewhere and could
escape, making haste to flee, watching the slow advance of the
Gothic conqueror, and fearful of the leaguer which must presently
begin, Rome waited.
One morning the attention of those who went about the streets was
caught by certain written papers which had been fixed during the
night on the entrance of public buildings and at other such
conspicuous points; they bore a proclamation of the King of the
Goths.
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